


a morning not so dreadful

by picketfences (OnyxSphinx)



Category: Turn (TV 2014)
Genre: M/M, This is really just fluff honestly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:54:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27999324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnyxSphinx/pseuds/picketfences
Summary: Mulligan makes a surprise visit to the Townsend residence.
Relationships: Hercules Mulligan/Robert Townsend
Comments: 1
Kudos: 4





	a morning not so dreadful

It’s early morning going by the way the sun shines in through the slit between the curtains; bright and cheery, not caring in the slightest for Robert’s sanity. He’s already rolled over in bed twice in the past hour or so to try and escape it, but the fact of the matter is, he’s fighting a losing battle.

Finally, giving in to the inevitable, he rises; pulls on a pair of trousers; pulls his hair back into a queue and fastens his stock and neck-cloth; dons a drab waistcoat and jacket, and makes his way downstairs.

“Ah, Robert,” greets his father; cheery as ever; “I didn’t think I would be seeing you until noon!”

“Sloth is a vice, and one I am not keen to indulge in,” Robert intones; and settles himself across from the other man after fixing himself a plate of food. “How are the pigs this morning?”

Samuel hums. “Oh, the same as ever,” he replies. “Eager to be fed—would you mind? I’d do it myself, but, well, I’m afraid that my back simply isn’t up for the labour at present.” 

It’s not the first time old pains have troubled him; and Robert is more than willing to oblige the man; so he nods, and says, “I shall finish up my breakfast, and then go tend to them. Is there anything else you need me to do?”

His father waves him off. “No, no,” he says, “after that, do as you will—read, or go for a walk, or otherwise entertain yourself. Let loose a little, perhaps—it would do you some good. You’re always to upright...”

“It’s called forbearance, father; perhaps you ought to practice it some day.”

Samuel chuckles. “Alright then, Robert, do as you will. You’re a grown man, I shall not intercede in your affairs.”

Rober has to restrain himself from rolling his eyes; instead, he just cuts his eggs and spears them, eating at a respectable pace. When he finishes, he rises and rinses his plate off, setting it up to dry, and makes his way out to the stables.

The hogs are snuffling away happily when he arrives; and he murmurs a few calming words to them before going to fetch the pail of scraps. He’d never admit it to anyone, but he has a certain fondness for the animals—there’s a certain beauty in their abandon, he reflects, as they descend upon the food like a school of fish upon a piece of bread.

“You’ve been keeping yourself busy, I see,” comes a familiar, lilting voice; and Robert turns to find Hercules Mulligan atop a steed, mere paces away from him.

His first thought is to his clothes; the tailor is dressed finely in silks and colours, his boots shined to a fine, mirror-like sheen; and Robert, by contrast, in mud- and dust-covered, dreary grey. He finds his ears burning. “I wasn’t expecting you,” he says, in an attempt to divert attention from the fact.

Hercules laughs. “It wouldn’t be a surprise if you were expecting it, would it?” he teases, and dismounts. Then, more seriously: “I hadn’t seen you since that night. I was beginning to grow worried.”

“Oh.” Robert swallows. “So you rode all this way just to—to make sure I was alright?” 

His disbelief must show in his tone, for Hercules frowns; reaches out a hand to brush their fingers together before pulling back; the touch eliciting an electric shock. “Of course I was worried about you. What if you had been caught? Or, worse, jailed?” He lowers his voice. “That is a common fate for men such as us, you know.”

“I  _ know, _ ” Robert snaps; and then sighs. “I apologise for not informing you of my departure,” he says, finally. “I was in a rush—had I forewarning, I would have contacted you. Please, forgive me.”

Hercules’ lips quirk. “All’s forgiven,” he says. “Though in return, may I ask of you a favour?”

Robert nods. “Go on.”

“Do me the honour of dining with me,” Hercules says. “I know we’ve—” he hesitates, and then, sotto voce: “had trysts, but I want something more... _ proper. _ ”

“A dinner?” Robert contemplates it; wiping his hands off on the legs of his trousers. “What about your wife?”

At that, Hercules laughs; high and long. At Robert’s miffed expression, he explains. “Trust me, she will not complain—she and I have an arrangement, you understand. It’s worked quite well for us—we remain a happily married couple, if not one whose marriage bed has ever been used.”

Robert blinks; surprised. He’s heard of such arrangements, of course, but to his knowledge, they were all for men with mistresses—not for whatever he and Hercules are. “Ah,” he finally says. “Well, then, I suppose that I would be amenable to that.”

Hercules grins. “Good.”

“Robert! Are you going to just stand there, or are you going to invite that fine gentleman in for a cup of coffee?” Samuel calls from the porch, leaning heavily on his cane, his voice carrying a hint of command in it.

Robert winces. “I apologise for my father,” he says. “You are not obligated to come in.”

“No, no, I’d love to.”

“Alright, then. Allow me to show you where to put your horse, and I shall put on a kettle.”

“Marvellous,” Hercules says, smile still wide on his face, auburn hair loose and blowing in the slight wind. “You know, when I woke up, I didn’t expect the day to come to this.”

“Neither did I,” Robert returns; quite frankly.

**Author's Note:**

> you can find me at [major-721](https://major-721.tumblr.com/) on tumblr


End file.
